Pairing: Ron/Fred/George (older then 16)
Summary: ron pretends to have a nightmare, so he can be with his brothers.
There was almost no way of telling the twins apart. The only scars they had different were in places that would be hidden by pyjamas. They were the same size, so they switched clothes frequently. It wasn’t as much to fool people, as it was just picking whatever was on the floor, and wearing it, regardless of who it was originally bought for. And it was possible one had one bed at Hogwarts, and the other had the other, but at the Burrow, they switched beds too.
No, there was only one way to tell the difference. George slept with a stuffed pig, and Fred slept with a white and black crup. So, Ron tiptoed over to one of the beds, and raised the blanket slightly. Ah! The black and white crup! This was Fred.
Using his good foot, Ron kicked the sleeping form. Fred jolted awake. “Wha!”
“I had a nightmare, and I’m scared, can I sleep with you?”
“No you are not.” Fred said solidly. He knew that when Ron had nightmares, he liked to go for a walk around the house, not snuggle. “But crawl in. This blanket’s thinner then the one at the apartment over the shop, I’m cold.”
Fred lifted the blanket a bit, and Ron climbed in. The bed was a single, slightly smaller then Ron’s twin mattress, so he had to cuddle close. Fred’s right arm was covering the face of the crup, so Ron put his left arm over the bottom legs of it, and left his right arm between the two. He squirmed up a bit, so Fred wasn’t breathing his warm used air in Ron’s face. Then he wriggled his left leg between both of Fred’s. Fred really was cold, and Ron felt bad for him, so he moved even closer, intent on sharing body heat.
“Thanks hun.” Fred murmured sleepily.
“I don’t mind sleeping with you, as long as you don’t call me hun.”
“What about sweetie?”
Ron drifted back to sleep as Fred kept suggesting names. It was almost like a lullaby, the slow whispering of sweet sounding words.
Ron woke up for a second time that night, with a kick in the shins. He planned to tell Fred to move to his side of the bed, but he opened his eyes when he heard a “What are you doing?”
As Ron’s heart almost burst out his chest and Fred tried to explain, George said “You better include me. I’ll be lonely otherwise.” then he grabbed his wand. Fred and Ron got out of bed, and George transfigured the two singles into a bed for the three of them.
Fred laid down between the wall and Ron, Ron was between Fred and George, and George had the floor side of the bed. He drifted off to sleep between his two brothers, feeling utterly safe.
Ron woke up, not sure where he was. Not only could he not feel the criss-cross of his mattress, he was surrounded by warmth his bed never gave off. Also, he seemed to have something fluffy in his mouth. He opened his eyes, and saw the fluff was the tail of a pig.
So somehow George had stuck his pig in Ron’s mouth, and Fred’s crup felt like it was somewhere near his calf. George was on his stomach, left arm thrown over Ron’s throat, and Fred was on his side hugging Ron’s waist. It was gorgeous, and it was lovely, and he loved his brothers. And a little part of him realised maybe this was wrong, but a much larger portion told him he would never get this from Harry, and he had to get it from someone.
So, Ron just laid there, until Fred grumbled he had to go pee, and he shoved George and Ron off the bed, then clambered over them. George and Ron were a mass of blankets, legs, arms, stuffed animals and pillows. Ron thought he was vaguely on top, but it was hard to tell. Then George strained his neck to reach up, and kissed Ron. It continued until Fred came into the bedroom.
“Oh, get a room, will you?”
George pulled away to remark snarkily, “This is a room.”
Fred laughed, then replied “Well, either get another one, or invite me. My lips are nice and juicy.”
Ron and George started laughing. Ron choked out, “Is that supposed to be a turn on?”
Fred did a flying tackle onto Ron, and yanked his head to the side. “Oh, shaddup.” he murmured, before invading Ron’s mouth. He had two coherent thoughts before drifting away to a land of sexual bliss. “Oh. Yum.” and “Maybe juicy is good.”